


new flesh

by poise



Series: the what if's [11]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Blood, M/M, Murder, Perhaps a little gory, accidental murder, but not that bad i think, it's the 80s baby, renmin as impulsive teens, who accidentally murder someone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-05
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:48:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23494825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poise/pseuds/poise
Summary: there isn't much to do in summer and all renjun wanted was a little bit of fun. things take an unexpected turn.
Relationships: Huang Ren Jun/Na Jaemin
Series: the what if's [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1378438
Comments: 6
Kudos: 84
Collections: NCT Spookfest 2020





	new flesh

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jjhs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jjhs/gifts).



> read at your own risk!! this is gory but listen to "new flesh" by current joys while reading!!!!! it's what inspired me to write this. this is not me romanticizing murder or anything like that, i just think this was an interesting concept :)

There’s a tang of iron in the air, thick and suffocating. It makes the bile in Renjun’s throat more apparent. He tries biting his tongue, muscle between his teeth to stop himself from completely emptying his stomach onto the carpet below them. The last thing they needed was an even bigger mess.

He takes a deep breath and focuses on a record playing somewhere, faint and upbeat to match the hot summer sun beating down on the little house. The heat was strong enough to push through the thin walls and crooked roof. It’s one thing to have the pungent smell of iron filling the air but the addition of heat makes the smell even more palpable. It causes little beads of sweat to drip down the side of Renjun’s temple. A few drops land onto his bloody, trembling hands. 

A sharp intake of breath sounds behind him. 

“We need to move him.” The tone is light as if it was such a trivial task. As if the body lying unconscious along the carpeted floor was nothing but a sight for sore eyes. Renjun doesn’t say anything, doesn’t dare to breathe even louder than he already was, hoping that if it was quiet enough, everything would somehow go away. The drying blood on his hands and his bruised knees against the roughness of the carpet reminds him otherwise. 

“We need to move him before he bleeds out on the carpet.” Jaemin tries again as if Renjun hadn’t heard him the first time. “Renjun, it’s gonna take forever for us to clean this up. I need you to-” 

_“Jaemin.”_ it comes out as more of a whisper. Renjun’s pupils are blown out, large shaking eyes staring directly into Jaemin’s as if he was pleading. “He’s dead. He’s dead because of us.” 

There’s a concrete look behind Jaemin’s eyes but it’s not fear nor guilt. It’s almost as if he’s frustrated instead. Thinking of the ever so tedious process of disposing any sort of evidence they could leave behind. The lack of remorse in his eyes makes Renjun’s bones feel like wet cement, weighing him down. 

It was an accident, on both parties. 

All they wanted was that stupid vinyl. It was harmless. They would break into this seemingly empty house, borrow a vinyl and be on their merry way. It was summer, all Renjun wanted to do was listen to music and all Jaemin wanted was Renjun. But it had happened so fast. 

A flurry of screams, threats thrown in the air as they stand opposite of a boy around their age, trembling hands grasping a kitchen knife. Renjun had tried telling him that they were no sort of threat, that this was nothing but an impulsive plan made over melted ice cream on a hot day.

Still the boy persisted, charging towards them with manic eyes and within a split second was then laying on the ground. Renjun pulled back and watched in horror as Jaemin, consumed by white-hot rage, continued plunging the knife deep into the boy’s chest. 

The worst thing about it was that Renjun knew him. The kids at school called him ‘Nutcase Choi’. He was the timid, quiet kid who wouldn’t talk to anyone in class. Renjun’s seen him exit the male’s school bathroom with his uneaten lunch in hand a couple of times. Never talked to him though, never had a reason to. And now all Renjun could do was stare at his lifeless body lying in the living room. The boy’s _own_ living room. 

“Jun, listen to me.”

Renjun feels a pair of warm hands cup his face. The same hands that were covered with the blood of an innocent boy they had brutally murdered. Hands that were now washed and scrubbed with soap that reminded Renjun of spicy apples. What would his family think when they got home only to be greeted with an empty house. To find out that their son had disappeared. Should they write a letter in his name? Maybe brush it off as him running away. _No,_ that wouldn’t work. They didn’t know a single thing about him. They didn’t even know the name of the boy they had murdered.

“If we don’t do something now, they’re going to find out. You’ll never see the end of the summer if they do, do you understand that? So I need you to snap out of it.”

“We just killed someone Min.” Renjun hisses back, snapping out of his trance. “Do _you_ understand _that?_ ” he speaks in a hushed tone, as if someone was listening.

The tension stays thick and palpable in the air. “We deserve to get caught.”

At this, Jaemin grabs his bloody hands, tainting his own once again. “ _Don’t_ say that.” he warns and Renjun can’t help but look at the blood caking under his fingernails. “This isn’t your fault. This is none of our faults, it was an accident.” Jaemin says, more to himself. 

He doesn’t even realize the bottle of bleach sitting next to the body. Jaemin must’ve scavenged under the kitchen sink while he was still in a daze.

The record playing has now abruptly stopped.

“What do we do?” 

Jaemin bites his lips, eyeing the patch of blood soaking into the carpet. There’s still a few specks of blood on his cheeks and Renjun resists the urge to reach out and swipe a thumb against it.

“We do this my way.” he rolls his sleeves up, not paying any mind to the blood starting to smear on his forearms. “We need some plastic bags… and a bucket.” 

Renjun lets out one last final shaky breath, nodding. This was the start of something new, a never ending web of lies he’d have to live with for the rest of his life. With wobbly knees, he attempts standing up, feeling the burn in his muscles from crouching for so long. He spares the body one last look, cringing at the way the boy’s eyes were still pried open, staring at the ceiling with such horror they had left him in. 

“Jun?” Jaemin calls out as Renjun starts making his way to the kitchen.

“Yeah?” 

There's a silence that hangs in the air, perhaps an unspoken understanding that there was no going back after this. Renjun knows.

“Wash your hands.” is all Jaemin says before twisting the cap to the bleach, letting the smell of chemicals permeate the air, overtaking the pungent smell of iron. 

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading ^_^ and to quote jaemin! "wash your hands" !!!!! stay safe everyone!! 
> 
> [cc](https://curiouscat.me/813na)  
> [twt](https://mobile.twitter.com/rensfilms)


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